


Into the Fire

by nerdsymphonia



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdsymphonia/pseuds/nerdsymphonia
Summary: Traversing Zegnautus Keep isn't easy, and the safe rooms offer little assurance to his fear and anxiety.A stream of consciousness dealing with Noctis, his thoughts and emotions, and the dorms of the Keep.





	

 

 _"Thanks Ignis"_  
_"I won't always be around."_

The blinking of blue, once-twice-up it goes. He darted his gaze to the side, hearing the tell-a-tale clink and clank of the empty wandering guards, turning towards him. His breath caught in his throat-

  
_-Don't see me-_

  
Before turning forward again, breath releasing as he flung himself forward, tucking his head and rolling hard onto his right shoulder to clear the opening panel, hoping it didn't make enough noise to draw unwanted attention. He continued his momentum, feet finding the floor, right hand steadying him as he changed his course, ducking between the bunk beds and sliding to the ground again, feet slipping out behind him as his stomach hit the floor, grunting softly.

  
He peaked through the gap under the bed, at the door that was sliding close. Hearing the clinking getting nearer and nearer. The stomp of its metal feet clinking into view-

  
But the door finished its descent, finding no moving heat source to trigger its command, and the feet continued their forward motion, not once turning towards the room he had ducked into, and he felt his breath leave him.

  
He placed his forehead on his arms, and breathed.

* * *

 

Heat. It had to be heat-sensored somehow. 

  
He had thought himself trapped, running through the hallway in a mad dash, off balance, feeling the mental weariness as the ring tried to pull magic from within him, but it had been drained too fast, hadn't rebuilt itself, and now he was going to be murdered by the MT axe man, next to a bunch of beds no less. But the door simply slid shut behind him, the sound draining away. He turned, survival instincts kicking in as he ducked behind one of the bunk beads, breathing harshly, prepared to hop through and out run the bugger if he could, head pounding with thoughts, the strongest being he had to live- awaiting the beeps that would alert that the door was opening again, letting the axe man in to finish him.

  
But it didn't open again, and he felt a rush of emotion swirl within him, causing him to choke out a sob, hand quickly coming to cover his mouth as he braced himself on the bed, still watching the door. He stayed that way for many minutes, awaiting the break of the silence.

  
But it never came.

* * *

 

 _"Hey, are you paying attention?"_  
_"Uh, what?"_

Daemons were cold. So cold.

  
He swore he could see his breath every time he got cornered by them, the chill of the air sweeping and cutting through the small warmth his jacket provided. The claws a searing bitter chill against his skin.

  
They weren't this freezing entity before. Only in the deep recesses of Eos had he felt something similar to this chill. And then- warms hands had been at his back, near his side. Friendly banter, illumination, heat.

  
Only cold here, with he and the daemons.

* * *

 

He flung a book at the door, it hitting the frame with a dull thud, before flopping to the floor. Another followed its course. Then a box. A pillow. He even tried to move a bed, but gave up when the steel only moved a few inches, and he thought about strong arms reaching over his head, pushing as well, was too much to bear.

  
But the door never moved. Not unless he got near.

  
Heat-sensored then.

  
Safe.

  
Daemons were cold. MT's were soulless. No heat then.

  
He hoped.

* * *

 

 _Beep, beep, beep, beep..._  
_"It's futile."_  
_"Rise and shine, Princess."_

  
He rolled, hand moving to cover his eyes.

  
_"Morning there, buddy."_  
_"Eyes open."_  
_"And he's up."_

  
"Not technically up." He found the words slip out of his mouth, before awareness hit him, feeling a jolt through his system. He sat up quickly, glancing around the room-

  
Empty. Phantom voices. His phone lay next to the pillow by his head, motionless and cold. No signal. No alarm.

  
Only empty bunk beds awaited him.

* * *

 

 _"So, this is what its like to be rescued by a prince."_  
_"Go back to sleep, beauty."_

"The research lab has been devoid of life for several weeks. Daemons once kept in captivity have been sighted outside the compound, suggesting a security breech. An outbreak could have dire implications from Gralea's city center, and all communications within the facility are still down...."

  
The hum of the radio continued in the background, giving no more information then he already knew. It was only a escape from the silence, from the clanking of the MT's as they did their rounds, from the deafening silence of his reality against the maddening buzz of his brain.

  
He could stay here. In this room. Forever. Could die. No one would find him. Ardyn might. But that might be a blessing. He could at least punch the man rather then glare up at the ceiling like he had been.

  
There would be no future. No king. No, nothing. He wouldn't have to fight anymore daemons. No more ducking from MT's into hallways, hoping they pass him by. No more gas, key cards, chasing after a fake Prompto. No more knowing if this was all real, or walking head long into this trap, but seeing no alternative. And no more calling on the ring, on the draining magic it caused, making him pause more and more as he continued his trek.

  
He could stay here. Laying on his bed, loosely holding the phone in his hand, willing to hear the voices of his friends again, pretending that he didn't have tears in his eyes, tears in his clothes, and shreds of his sanity. Everything could stop.

  
But...

  
If he didn't move, he couldn't find them again. Couldn't hear their voices. Couldn't find the real Prompto and tell him how sorry he was. Of what happened that day on the train. Couldn't feel Gladio placing an arm on his shoulder, or Ignis' soothing words, still an adviser despite recent complications. And their laughs. If he didn't move, he wouldn't hear them again.

  
His friends, he needed to move for his friends. They were counting on him.

  
And so he did, pushing onward into the trap that was Zegnautus Keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey,
> 
> I really, really liked traversing the Keep. And as a person who deals with the loss of motivation a lot, I wanted to touch base with Noctis dealing with that. This also turned out a lot differently then when I first started imagining it, which was a dream sequence with the guys and Noctis waking up in the safe room and dealing with the loss of his closest companions. Who knows, that may still happen. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed. See you around Eos!  
> -Cloudia


End file.
